So.... Late May this year my husband and I graduated from two different rehabs. I've shared on reddit quite a bit but not close to everything we've been through. You can dig deeper if you want details but this is a recap of us graduating rehabs two months ago.

A week after leaving we relapsed. We were both hospitalized. I went into a meth psychosis for a week. (Psych ward) He went to detox. He left detox, found OD and driven to the ER. I came to see him. We snorted meth off the floor before he went to a different psych ward..... Which I drove to with him via ambulance. I went to another detox.... About 7 days later were both being admitted to two other rehabs about 40 miles away from each other. Off to treatment again! This time were going to make. 28 days later... He's discharged on Thursday. I leave following Saturday. He's supposed to pick me up at 10am. The plan was to move to another city not far from Seattle. Two separate sober living homes. We were going to start fresh. New people new places new things. Saturday at 940am I'm told he overdosed. Rushed to the hospital where he's in the ICU. He was brain dead. Unresponsive. Irreversible. I relapse two hours later. Kicked out of my sober living. Today I checked myself into a year long program for women. My husbands gone. This first week out of treatment was meant to be full of rebuilding and starting fresh. Instead it's been me making hard decisions regarding his remains, seeing his family and friends. Me drinking my heartache away. Last we spoke on the phone (two days before I graduated) we talked about how good our life was going to be as long as we stayed clean. He overdosed 6 hours later. He never heard me say goodbye. All his friends could say was that I was all he spoke about. How much he loved me and just wanted to get better for us. Addiction is a terrible thing.